Date: Thu, 15 Dec 2011 07:44:57 -0800 (PST)
From: Vincent Vincent
Subject: The House Fag 11
First, the basics. This is, once again, a work of FICTION. Real-life
considerations will take a back seat to erotic pleasure and story-telling;
this slave, these Masters do not exist. Wanna change that? Or just wanna
share comments/praise/criticism? Fine: Not_your_Typical_Master@yahoo.com
Copyright 2011
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The House Fag, Chapter 11
Months came and went and the routine continued. I was only free to leave
my cell when neither of my Owners were around or on the rare occasion one
of Them called me out. Sometimes this would happen for repeated nights at
a time, but more often, I could go days or weeks without either of Them
having any sexual use for me. I hungered for Them and I prayed for those
events. Although I was always grateful when one of Their cocks slid
through the glory hole, I even more missed the chance to just look at Their
incredible bodies and handsome faces. It was probably just a product of my
ever-growing isolation. My only constant companions were the Pony and the
program that kept etching itself into my faggot brain. I craved just being
allowed to see my Lord or Master and I would gush my gratitude in no
uncertain terms when I was given that opportunity.
"Oh, God, thank You, Master Thomas. Thank You for allowing me to look at
Your magnificence. How can I thank you, Master Thomas, Sir?"
The answer to that question would vary. Sometimes He wanted to jerk off
using my fag skull. Sometimes He wanted His feet worshipped while He
watched TV. Sometimes He wanted to chill as His mouth-watering blond pits
were adored. And sometimes He wanted His butthole washed from under the
recliner. But mostly were the cruel nights when He merely wanted His fag
to hunger, kneeling inches away from His flesh, just out of reach.
Anything He wanted, He got. And Lord Zachary, too, of course.
Sometimes I was used as a perk for Their friends. There were cocks sliding
into my cell that I didn't recognize. Didn't matter. I was kept in such a
relentless state of arousal that I fervently worshipped any and all cocks
that were given to me. And, of course, I paid for the privilege of being
allowed to suck them off. I wondered what would happen once my life
savings were completely used to pay Men for the honor of swallowing Their
cum and piss and sucking on Their assholes.
One evening Master Thomas and His friends were all in the family room. I
think they were watching a game on TV. I was surprised to hear my name
being called out.
"Hey, fag, come on out here. Bring your cash. All of it." I'd just
gotten a check cashed by Him earlier that day, so I had to bring out all
ten stacks of singles.
I humbly crawled into the room. The game was still on, but that wasn't the
focus of attention. There was a card table and chairs set up. Amongst the
chairs circling the table was Master Thomas' recliner. The Men were out on
the patio where I couldn't really see more than a glimpse of Them. "Leave
the stacks of fag-cash at the side of my recliner and crawl in, fag. Get
to work." I crawled into the recliner, face up, and proffered my tongue
through the slit. "That's a good fag." Somebody sat on my tongue and I
started to make love to His hole. "Yeah, just like that, fag." It was
Master Thomas.
He then spoke to His friends, who apparently had re-entered the family
room. "Okay guys, so we're all clear on this, right? Texas Hold `Em. But
the added bonus is that whoever wins the hand gets to sit here," He paused
as He once again squirmed against my faggot tongue, "during the following
hand. And gets a dollar for every minute that next hand lasts, paid by the
fag. Once you lose your $100, plus any fag income, you're out of the
game." I moaned in appreciation of His generosity. A bunch of hot
firemen's holes for me to make love to. Even if I never got to see them,
it was still a dream come true. "Quiet down, fag. Nobody wants to hear
from you."
I went to work licking, sucking, and cleaning the hole wrapped around my
tongue. I could hear the rounds of bidding and the reactions as cards were
revealed. A hand was won, not by Master Thomas, and soon a new butt was
lowering itself onto my hungry faggot tongue. "Somebody note the time, so
we know how many minutes and how many dollars Chet gets."
"Jesus, Tom. This feels fucking amazing. I never had somebody actually
kiss my ass before."
"Just keep winning, Chet. It doesn't matter, I'll get it all from you at
the end. That's the best part of this game. There's only one winner."
"How about we sweeten the pot, Tom?"
"What'cha mean, Brad?"
"Whoever wins at the end of the night gets the fag for their days off next
week."
"Nice idea, but what's in it for me? I already own the fagbitch. What are
you guys gonna possibly give me that's as good as my own fag?"
That shut everybody up. Nobody had anything to offer. I was relieved.
Hands were won, hands were lost. Assholes were worshipped. And
worshipped. And worshipped. Hot, tangy, musky, masculine Fireman holes
repeatedly opened themselves up for my eager faggot tongue. I was in
fucking heaven. It was rare to be used by Men besides Master Thomas and
Lord Zachary. Even more rare to be allowed to tongue Their asses. And now
I was paying only a dollar a minute to feast on a buffet of hot Fireman
ass. I was such a lucky little faggot.
And then it occurred to me. Just how fucking thorough Their training and
programming had been. I never liked eating ass. Never. I did it for
Master Thomas because I was so fucking horny for Him.
And now, I'm eating ass for hours. And loving every second of it. I can't
get deep enough inside them. So desperate. So hungry. So eager to serve.
I WORSHIP ASSHOLES
I NEED TO OBEY
I EXIST TO SERVE
MY JOB IS TO GIVE MEN PLEASURE
I NEED TO EAT RIPE ASS
Yes, Master Thomas. Yes, indeed. My eyes were watering from the
discomfort but there was no fucking way I was tearing my tongue out from
Their deeply flavorful holes. I suffered hours of physical stress just to
show these Men how grateful I was for Their use. How glad I was to pay
Them to kiss Their magnificent asses. And They were counting the minutes
with a timer, demanding payment for each minute of rapture I was allowed to
enjoy.
I have no idea who won that night. Such things don't concern a fag like
me. Only the pleasure of Men concerned me at that point. Just the way I
was being re-programmed.
"Alright, fag. Take the rest of your money and crawl back into your suite.
Game's over. I'm sure some of my buddies here want to get blown. But none
of them want to look at some pitiful fag while it's happening."
I silently crawled out from the recliner, my body shivering in relief, and
back into my cell with the remaining cash. The game must have lasted just
two or three hours, because I'd only spent about three of the ten stacks of
fifty. I closed the door and sat on the Pony, staring at the program.
I NEED COCK TO SURVIVE
I NEED DELICIOUS CUM
I NEED NUTRITIOUS PISS
I NEED TASTY ASSHOLES
Fuck. The program was, as always, digging my submission even deeper. I
would no longer just want cock. I would need it. And then I thought about
that first day on the patio. No, I already did need it. They're just
reinforcing what's already there. Fucking geniuses. Perfect hypnosis.
Find the need and bring it out.
I NEED MY MASTER
I NEED MY LORD
And there were Their faces, looking down at me. Master Thomas' friendly
smile. Lord Zachary's cruel, seductive smirk. Lightning flashes on the
screen before They were gone.
I ached to slide back a fraction of a second of time and bring those images
back. I sighed, wondering when I would next be allowed to see Them. Then
the glory hole cover slid back and a hard, dripping Fireman Cock was
insisting It be sucked. I slid ten singles on top of It through the hole
as payment.
I obediently, enthusiastically, desperately, adoringly worshipped the Meat.
I slid my tongue around Its foreskin, pulling up any grime that had been
there. I sucked in my cheeks, maximizing Its contact with my flesh and I
pulled forward and back, fucking It with my mouth. I needed to convince
this Man, all Men, that there was no place on earth that could provide as
much pleasure as I could right here.
"Fuck."
That word was all the validation I needed. I worked even harder to tickle
His pleasures with my mouth, tongue, and throat. Silently coaxing this
Stranger to feed me His seed and His pleasure.
"Oh, FUCK!"
That was His vocal confirmation of what my throat already knew, feeling the
spasming of His Prick as my gut received His gift. Moments later, He
pulled out. Soon after, another Fireman Dick, another ten bucks, and
another chance to be validated as the cockwhore I had been trained to
become.
I later realized that either Master Thomas had invited more friends, or
maybe even complete strangers, as I gratefully worshipped Prick after Prick
after Prick. Cut. Uncut. Black. White. Latin. Asian. Thick. Thin.
Large. Small. There seemed to be no end to the Cocks I was being allowed
to pay to make love to that night. Each made me hungrier than the last. I
became His insatiable fagsuck. The drool from my own fagdick was puddling
at my faggot feet. My fagnuts were unbearably swollen with pent up
fagjizz.
I AM FAGSCUM
MY MASTERS DESERVE BETTER THAN ME
I AM LUCKY TO SERVE SUCH MEN
I CRAVE COCK
I AM A FACELESS BRAINLESS SLAVE
I AM A FACELESS BRAINLESS WHORE
I AM NOTHING
I couldn't have been happier.